Hetalia x Reader Oneshots!
by IggyAndScones
Summary: A series of Oneshots for the lovely Hetalian fangirls out there ;). Note: I AM taking requests!
1. America x Reader- Rollercoaster

KNOCK.

The sound echoed throughout the house of (insert address here), unheard by it's resident.

KNOCK KNOCK.

This time, a young girl heard the sound.

(Y/n) ignored the knocking at her door, hoping that the person would leave her to play (fav video game) in peace.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Apparently, she had no such luck. Sighing and pausing the game, the girl got up, muttering about how she was so close to winning. When she got to the door, the person knocked a fourth time, so hard that it startled her.

(Y/n) opened the door, revealing her best friend, Alfred F. Jones, clutching his hand and muttering curses. She smiled, forgetting how Al had interrupted her gaming time, and laughing internally at how he could get a carried away with his knocking.

"Hi Al!" the girl said happily. Alfred released his hand and looked up at her.

"Hey dudette!" the boy answered, returning her sweet smile with his usual goofy grin.

"What brings you here? I mean it's great to see you and all, but why did you come here at 9AM?" (y/n) asked, inviting America into her home and closing the door behind him. He swept past her and plopped himself onto her brown living room couch.

"Well, I had a suggestion! Wanna go to the new roller coaster park with me?" Alfred asked, opening a bag of chips he had brought along.

"Are you kidding? Hell yeah!" said (y/n), fist pumping the air. His grin grew even wider.

"Awesome dude," said Alfred with a mouthful of chips.

"Well, I'd better get dressed, you can stay here," (y/n) informed, leaving the living room and walking upstairs to her bedroom.

***Timeskip brought to you by McD's burgers***

"Kay, I'm ready! When do we leave?" (y/n) asked, joining Alfred, who was still eating chips, in the living room. He gave her a smile and she sat next to him.

"I was thinking we could play video games 'till noon, and then we go!" said Alfred, offering (y/n) some chips which she accepted eagerly.

"That sounds good, but won't it be nighttime by the time we get back?" questioned (y/n), taking another handful, of chips.

"Yeah, well I was wondering if..." he started, but the rest of the sentence was mumbled so quietly that (y/n) could not hear it.

"What was that?" she asked. Alfred sighed and restarted.

"I was wondering ifwecouldhaveasleepovereventhoughyoureagirl?" he asked quickly, pink dusting his cheeks. She smirked.

"Why not? We are best friends after all!" said (y/n), making America return to his usual confident and goofy self.

"Thanks dude! You rock!" he said, pulling her into one of his crushing bear hugs. She blushed.

"No...prob..can't...breathe..." (y/n) gasped and Alfred released her from his iron grip.

"Sorry dude," he said, grinning once again, the pink trace still visible on his cheeks.

***Another Timeskip!***

"Yay! I win again!" cheered (y/n), fist pumping the air. Alfred groaned. They had been playing Mario Kart for the past few hours and he had only won a few times. (Y/n) was demolishing him at this.

"Next time, I will win!" he said determinedly. (Y/n) gave him a playful smirk.

"That's what you said last time, and the time before that," she teased, earning a sulk in return. Alfred looked at his watch.

"Hey dude, we'd better get going, if we wanna get able to get in!" said Alfred, grinning broadly again.

"Okay, let's go!"

***OMG guys, so many timeskips!***

Once the two homies had gotten through the line at the entrance, they decided to buy Skipaline Passes, a bracelet with a barcode that costed extra, but would allow them to take a shorter route to the roller coasters. This was a good idea, as (y/n) and America were both coaster lovers and the lines without the passes were very long.

"Let's do that one!" exclaimed Alfred as a gigantic roller coaster with a 90 degree drop appeared into view. (Y/n) smirked.

"Race you there!" she said, breaking into a run.

"Hey, no fair!" complained Alfred, smiling and running as well. (Y/n) had the early start, but Alfred had longer legs, so he caught up with her. However, (y/n) was smaller and could dodge easier, so naturally, she won.

The pair went into a lane especially for the Skipaline buyers, and since there was nobody there, they ran right to the front, ignoring envious groans from the people in the regular line.

"This is gonna be so awesome!" squealed (y/n) excitedly, getting into the front seat. Alfred grinned and took a seat to her right, leaving two more on her left.

"I know right, dude this looks epic!" said Alfred, giving (y/n) a high-five. Two people sat on (y/n)'s right and she had a spark of recognition.

"Hey, Iggy!" she smirked, tapping the person next to her on the shoulder.

"Hello, love," said the Englishman, frowning at the nickname she had used.

"Dude, I thought you didn't like roller coasters," exclaimed the American, feeling like punching England in the face for calling (y/n) 'love'.

"I do not, but France said he would pay me twenty bucks if I did it, so here I am," replied Arthur, as the person he had just mentioned sat on his right.

"Guys, are you sure you'll be alright sitting next to each other?" asked (y/n) still smirking, knowing well how much the two countries fought.

"Oui, ma chérie," said France, winking. Alfred, on the other hand, balled his hands into fists to keep himself from losing his temper. The announcer said that the ride was to start soon, so everyone strapped themselves in.

"Here we go!" said America. (Y/n) put her hands up whilst England and France gulped. America put his hands behind his head and relaxed back into his seat. The climb for the first drop began.

Suddenly, the car had reached the top of the first climb, and with many screams, including everyone in the first row but (y/n), the car fell forward, down, in a 90 degree drop. (Y/n) was laughing, Alfred was both screaming and whooping, while England clinged onto (y/n)'s right arm, yelping and France sunk into his seat, screaming silently.

"See, that wasn't so bad," said (y/n) once the ride was finished, trying to pry a terrified England off her arm. The British man said nothing, eyes wide with fear, refusing to let go.

"Britain, dude, you're gonna have to let go of (nickname), unless you want to go again," said America, frowning in envy. Fortunately for him, England did not want to ride the roller coaster again, and let go of (y/n)'s now numb right arm. Saying a few apologies, the four left the car, and split up into groups of (y/n) and Alfred, Francis and Arthur (who just gained twenty dollars).

'Thank god,' thought America, as he and (y/n) walked to the next ride they wanted to try. 'I want her all to myself if I'm going to try and confess.'

***Timeskip of Skipaline Passes***

For the rest of the day, (y/n) and Alfred went on all the roller coasters and even re-rode some. As the hours ticked by, Alfred grew more and more nervous, knowing that he had to find some romantic way of confessing his love for (y/n).

'You only get one shot,' he kept telling himself sternly. 'Mess up, and that's it.'

The sky started to turn darker around nine o'clock, and the two best friends started to grow increasingly tired of running around everywhere. They decided to eat a some pizza and sit down for a bit before continuing. (Y/n) managed to convince Al and his big appetite to not eat more than half a pizza, both for his weight and the fact that it wasn't a good idea to eat too much when you're riding roller coasters.

(Y/n) and Alfred had started walking again when the boy stopped in his tracks.

"Hey (y/n)?" he asked the girl, that had stopped next to him.

"Yes, Al?" she said, looking at him with concern as he stared in the distance. Following his gaze, she saw a beautiful Ferris wheel.

"Wanna ride that? For fun?" questioned Alfred, in awe at how amazing the wheel looked.

"Sure, why not?" (y/n) smiled and they changed their direction toward the Ferris wheel.

Once again, they didn't have to wait in line, Skipaline advantage, and got on the ride as soon as they arrived. Lucky for Alfred, they got a section to themselves, and then the ride started. It was a giant wheel, though not quite as big as the one in England (London Eye). Alfred fiddled nervously with the hem of his t-shirt, thinking of what to say. (Y/n), knowing her best friend well, noticed his nervousness and asked him if everything was alright.

"I'm ok," said Alfred, voice tone betraying his words. (Y/n decided to drop it, knowing that he didn't want to talk about it.

'Say something you idiot!' Alfred's mind was yelling. 'It's now or never!'

"(Y)-(Y/n)?" stuttered Al.

"Hmm?" replied (y/n) staring out onto the lake nearby.

"It's really pretty out here don't you think?" he said, desperate for a subject.

"Yeah, it is," (y/n) said, smiling serenely at the scene.

'Do something, at least!' America's mind was screaming. He sighed nervously. 'Now or never!'

The words echoed in his head. Now or never. He had a perfect place to confess to (y/n), so what was holding him back?

'Nothing,' he told himself. 'Nothing is holding me back.'

He took (y/n)'s hand, ignoring when she looked at him questioningly. Steeling his nerves, thinking that France would do something like this he cupped her face in his hands, as if it were far more precious than the finest diamond.

Then he pressed his lips to hers.

(Y/n)'s eyes were wide with shock, her body stiff. Her best friend/crush was kissing her! After processing the thought, she relaxed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, as he put his on her waist. Eventually, oxygen got the better of the two and they broke apart, both breathing heavily.

"I love you, (y/n)," said Al, smiling lovingly at (y/n).

"I love you too, America," she said, pulling him into another kiss.

***Last timeskip for this story!***

The sleepover went well, and Al didn't have to sleep on the couch or even in the guest bedroom. He and (y/n) shared the same bed, and could be found in each other's arms, both smiling in their sleep.

~The rest is up to you~


	2. England x Reader- Perfect

The capital of England, London, was busy as ever. Double-decker busses ran through the streets, picking up tourists and bringing them around the beautiful city. Kids were running around in nearby parks, playing tag or hide-and-seek, without a care in the world. Groups of friends populated the nearby Cafés. Some people walked alone.

Amongst these many souls was (y/n) (l/n). A beautiful girl with (long/short) (curly/wavy/straight) (h/c) hair, (y/n) had moved to England for her studies, in the hope of becoming an author. Since many talented authors lived in England, she had decided to take classes there, with the money she had gotten from her family and herself.

The classes were going well, though the homework amount was almost impossible.

Sighing at a pile of homework left on her desk, (y/n) decided to get it over with, so she could at least have some time later to admire London and go sightseeing.

So the girl opened the door, putting on a leather jacket since it was spring, and headed to Cafe CueTea (I ran out of ideas for names, okay!?), which was right around the corner from her small apartment building. This Cafe was one of the few that actually served good food, and was quite popular for that reason. Luckily, (y/n) was able to find an outdoor table to herself to start her incredibly big pile of homework.

***Timeskip no.1***

Three long hours dragged on, and (y/n) had finally finished her weekly homework. Sighing in contentment, she packed all the papers into her black-and-white striped bag, and decided that a cup of tea was an order after something like this. Swinging the bag's strap over her left shoulder, the girl walked in the remarkably clean Cafe, triggering the bell that sounded whenever a customer entered.

The place was just as (y/n) remembered it, a shining faded turqoise counter with glass boxes displaying their scones and other foods. A blackboard was hanging on the wall behind the counter, and written on it was the entire menu at the store, including the prices for everything. She walked toward the counter, and asked the kind boy who was there for unsweetened tea and a blueberry scone.

RING! The door had opened again. (y/n) turned away from the counter where she was waiting for her order, and saw a man with thick, bushy eyebrows, emerald green eyes and short tamed blond hair. She waved at him, earning a nod and smile in return.

Finally, (y/n)'s order was delivered to her, and she went back to the outside table to drink her tea and eat her mouthwateringly delicious scone.

The girl barely had time to take a bite of it when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned her head and saw the same man she had waved to inside the Cafe.

"May I sit here?" he asked with a sweet British accent, gesturing toward the chair opposing (y/n).

"S-sure," she stuttered, watching the Englishman as he sat down and began drinking his tea. (Y/n) felt awkward, as he must have noticed her native (native country) accent (If you are British, just choose a country and pretend that that's where you're from), so she just stuck with nibbling at her blueberry scone.

"So, love, could you tell me your name?" he asked suddenly. (Y/n) nodded, swallowing a piece of scone.

"(Y/n)," she answered. "What's your's?"

"Pleasure to meet you, (y/n), my name's England," said England, shaking (y/n)'s hand. Her eyes widened, and she internally punched herself for not recognizing the Country.

"T-the pleasure's all mine," stuttered (y/n), still in shock at meeting the Country in person. He smiled, thinking that on top of being pretty, this girl was very polite.

"How are you today?" questionned England, wanting to start a conversation. She sighed.

"I'm good, but I just spent three hours doing homework on a Saturday, when I could be sightseeing or something," said (y/n), causing England to cringe in empathy.

"That must stink," was all he could say.

"Yeah," she said with a faint smile.

"You aren't from here, are you?" guessed England.

"No, I'm from (country), but I came here to study," she informed.

"Excuse me for being nosy, but for what do you want to study here?" asked England, hoping (y/n) wouldn't get irritated by his interest in her life. Luckily, she just shrugged and continued.

"Well, I really want to become an author, and the writing program here is said to be very good," she replied, looking at her feet.

"It is," agreed England. They sat in silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the other's company, and listening to the soft breeze blow.

(Y/n) left her chair and dusted off her jacket. Being the gentleman he is, England stood as well, gazing into her (e/c) eyes, before catching himself and looking out to the street instead.

"I think I should go," said (y/n) noticing how late it was. "It really was a pleasure to meet you, England."

He smiled, and so did she.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" asked the Brit. (Y/n)'s grin grew wider and she nodded, linking arms with him.

***Timeskip no.2***

The next month was far more enjoyable for (y/n), because England was always eager to invite her over for tea or just take long walks in a park. He also helped out with her homework, and helped pay for her small apartment, even when she protested.

The two newly-found friends were lying in a flowery field when (y/n) thought of something.

"Hey Arthur?" she asked, using England's human name, which he had told her about a few weeks ago.

"Yes love?" replied Arthur, causing (y/n) to turn pink at the word love.

"Want to make flower crowns?"

"Of course, love."

So the two spent the next hour carefully weaving flower crowns for each other. (Y/n) used (fav flower) for hers, and Arthur used Primroses (not The Hunger Games) for his.

"Done!" (y/n) squealed excitedly at her masterpiece. The flower crown was perfect.

"It's beautiful, love," said Arthur, still finishing his crown. She smiled.

"So is yours," she complimented, once he held his flower crown in the air triumphantly.

"Thank you, love," he said, grinning back, blond hair flowing in the soft summer breeze. Arthur was unconsiously admiring how beautiful (y/n) looked with the sunlight radiating on her sweet face, when she returned his gaze. They just sat there, looking deeply into each other's eyes for a while. Always enjoying each other's company silently.

"Close your eyes," said (y/n) softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. Arthur raised an eyebrow questioningly, but obeyed nonetheless. He felt something being placed ever so gently on his head and realized it was (y/n)'s flower crown.

"There," she said, satisfaction echoing in her words. "You look even more handsome."

England went red.

(Y/n) smirked, knowing well enough what had caused his blush.

"W-well," began Arthur, still red as Romano' tomatoes.

"Yes?" pressed (y/n). He sighed.

"Close your eyes," said the Brit.

(Y/n) obeyed thinking that he would do the same that she did, and put his crown on her head. But she was proven wrong.

A weight on her head told her that the crown was there. So, the girl opened her eyes and saw that Arthur's lips were millimeters away from hers, eyes closed in bliss. England was trying to kiss her. (Y/n)'s eyes widened and in shock, she fell backwards, onto the grassy field.

"A-Arthur?" she asked in confusion. The color drained away from England's face.

"I-I'm s-so sorry!" he stuttered, tears forming in his emerald green eyes and threatening to start spilling. The only thing running through his head was (Warning: swearing ahead) 'OH FUCK, NO, SHIT, BLOODY HELL, NO, SHIT, SHIT,'.

So Arthur stood and ran away from the field, heart shattered and thinking how stupid he was to think that (y/n) would ever like someone like him.

Unknown to the Englishman, (y/n) was running after him, following him to his gigantic home where she finally caught up with him.

"Arthur!" she called as he unlocked his door desperately. England turned around to look at the girl and she saw that tears were running silently down his sweet face.

"Arthur, wait! Please!" she yelled as he opened his door and stepped inside. Arthur ignored her, locking his door behind him, sinking to his knees inside and letting the tears flow.

***The next morning***

England awoke lying sprawled near the door, face wet with tears. (Y/n) had really broken his heart.

He stood, every muscle groaning in protest, and noticed a small folded piece of paper that had been slid through the gap between the ground and the door. He picked it up and saw his name written in all-too-familiar-writing. (Y/n). Arthur shook away more tears, and unfolded the paper.

'Dear Arthur,' said the note.

'I am so sorry about yesterday. When I opened my eyes, I was so shocked that you were so close that I fell back in shock, and I assure you, I didn't mean to.

'Anyways, I'm writing this since you're refusing to open the door. I hope that you will find this note and read it.

'I only really have one thing to say.

'I love you, and I miss you.'

Arthur re-read the note several times, letting the words sink in. He smiled for the first time in the last few hours. She loved him back. She missed his company. And, he realized, so did he.

England hastily changed clothes and combed his messy blond hair. Afterwards, he sprinted out of the house and toward (insert address here). After a few knocks, (y/n) in pajamas appeared in the doorway, and Arthur had to stop himself from picking her up in his arms.

"Arthur? Need anything?" she asked casually. Arthur put his hands on her hips, and said the thing that was on his mind all morning.

"Me too," he said, before kissing (y/n) passionately. Her eyes were closed, as if she had been expecting this, and her hands were wrapped tightly around Arthur's neck. The kiss ended far too early for Arthur's liking but he kept control.

"You're perfect," he whispered in (y/n)'s ear, causing her to giggle.

"So are you," she said.

"I love you," the boy said.

"I love you too," the girl replied.

~The rest is up to you~


	3. China x Reader- Thanks, Panda

"Panda? Where did you go, aru?" came China- Wang Yao-'s voice, as he called his panda for the fourth time. Expecting for the adorable creature to walk into his bedroom where he sat at any moment, China breathed in and out to calm himself.

"Calm down, Panda couldn't have gone too far," he kept repeating to himself as he walked through his unusually large house to search outside.

Taking a deep breath, as the weather was amazingly nice, Yao strode out the door, fiddling idly with his long sleeves and thinking of negative things that could have happened to Panda.

"What if that creep Russia stole him again?" he asked himself frantically, remembering that one time when Russia had dressed up as his Panda and taken the real one away. "Or what if that douche Britain fed him his gross scones?"

It was pretty obvious that China did not expect to find his beloved Panda with a girl.

"Panda!" yelled Yao in relief, spotting the small cub in the distance crawling toward a (brunette/blonde/redhead), whom was sitting on a brown bench, reading a book. Of course, considering that Yao was on the other side of the park, Panda didn't hear him calling and jumped onto the bench next to the girl, earning a surprised "Oh!".

Much to China's shock, the girl didn't try to shoo away Panda, but started to stroke his smooth fur, smiling warmly.

Yao could hear her talking as he walked over.

"You're so adorable! Do you not have an owner?" came her cooing voice as she ruffled Panda's fur.

"That would be me, aru," said Yao, arriving in front of the girl and making her jump.

"Oh! Alright then," she smiled, and Yao felt his stomach do an uncontrollable flip. "I'm (y/n), what's your name?"

"You can call me China," said China, puffing his chest out in pride, and returning her smile.

The two of them then chatted until (y/n) excused herself, saying that she needed to go home, but not before returning Panda and giving China her phone number.

***Timeskip***

It had been three or four months since (y/n) had met Yao, and they had become close friends. Often, they would go to Chinese restaurants together, though not on dates.

But sometimes, (y/n) wished they were.

The girl wasn't sure when, but now she knew for certain that she had fallen in love with China. And she hated herself for it.

I mean, how would the personification of the country China ever fall in love with someone like her? Sure, they were friends, but Yao could easily make someone better-looking than her fall easily into his arms.

So, she ignored her feelings toward the Chinese man, and prayed that they would go away someday.

Of course, she was already too far gone for that.

Every time they touched, or he smiled, her heart leaped and she flushed nervously, occasionally stumbling over her own words afterwards. That just made (y/n) even more sure of her massive crush.

So, she decided finally that it was time to confess. Not because she ever expected him to return her feelings, but because getting it out would mean that a huge weight would be lifted off her shoulders.

Even with with her newly found determination, (y/n)'s legs were still trembling as she stood on China's doorstep. She looked down self-consciously at her outfit. The girl had put together a nice-looking casual outfit; skinny denim jeans, a white tank top underneath a large translucent orange sweater and flip-flops.

'Come on (y/n),' she told herself. 'Get this over with, for goodness' sake!'

Somehow, (y/n) managed to knock on the door. In a few seconds China was there, in his usual Mandarin Jacket, with a confused look on his face.

"(Y/n)?" he asked, since she had never really gone to his house, as they usually met up somewhere instead. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I..." (y/n) internally punched herself for being such a coward. It didn't matter if he didn't like her back, all she wanted was to get the words out and move on!

"Are you okay? Your face is very pale, aru," asked a concerned China, as (y/n) fumbled for her words.

The girl took a deep breath, and braced herself for what she was about to say.

"I LOVE YOU!" she blurted out, perhaps too loudly, since China was a little startled by her words.

There was a really awkward silence in which (y/n) and Yao stared at each other, until Panda broke it.

"Tell her already!" said Panda, nudging him toward her. When nothing came out of China's mouth, he sighed impatiently.

"Tā ài nǐ, (y/n)" came Panda's impatient voice, this time shoving (y/n) at full force into Yao, causing her to fall on top of him.

They both flushed pink, before (y/n) pressed her lips softly to his, deepening the colour of his blush. Yao wrapped his arms around her, sitting up, before oxygen got the better of the two and they broke apart.

"Panda's right, (y/n). Wǒ ài nǐ," said China lovingly, kissing her once again.

"I love you too," she said.

~The rest is up to you~


	4. 2p America x 1p Reader- Crossed

WARNING: Swearing ahead.

"That's the problem. I can't stand being around you. But I can't stay away from you~."

(Y/n) (L/n) was the human personification of (c/n).

(C/n) was an island in the Pacific near Hawaii around the size of Poland, with a killer military force, a rich culture and art. The only reason it hadn't been invaded yet was the amazing strategies made by herself and (y/n)'s own strength.

You could say that she had the good life.

But with the good things, there were bad things.

Like most of the other countries, (y/n) had a 2p!version of herself.

And boy, did that version annoy the shit out of her.

Her 2p!version was called (2p!name). Unlike (y/n) who was kind, shy and smart, (2p!name) was an idiotic bitch. (2p!name) was also a murderer, just like all of the other 2ps.

Oh, and also, (y/n) called her a sl*t.

Almost every 2 weeks (y/n) had to kick her off her island, muttering insults under her breath and hoping that (2p!name) wouldn't come back.

Too bad her wishes didn't come true.

"Hey! Yo, 1p me!" (y/n) was disrupted from her relaxation by an all-too-familiar voice. Sighing and sitting up from her couch, (y/n) made a mental note to kill whoever let the 2p in.

"Why are you here, bitch?" said (y/n), targeting (2p!name) with a gun, once she had found her standing outside her living room.

"Whoa, don't get mad! I'm just here to tell you to hand your land over to me!" (2p!name) said, throwing her hands in the air defensively. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

'I can't believe how stupid the other me is...' thought (y/n).

"How about no?" said (y/n), still frowning in annoyance. Her double looked confused for a moment, before smiling in a murderous way and cracking her knuckles tauntingly.

They walked outside and got ready to fight.

Here we go again.

(Y/n) thought this was going to be the usual fight, where she basically kicked (2p!name)'s ass and gave her to the police or threw her into the sea (if you really care, 2ps are hard to kill, so (2p!name) won't drown in the sea).

She was wrong.

Sure, (y/n) managed to beat her 2p self easily, since (2p!name) was all brawn and no brains, but someone had been watching her do this, someone who would change her life forever.

And that someone was surprised at how a fragile-looking girl managed to knock out (2p!name) in no more than five minutes.

If you haven't guessed yet, that someone was Allen Jones, or 2p!America.

Normally, Al didn't pay attention to 1p!s (unless he was beating them up), but this one had something undeniably interesting about her. Unlike his 1p! self, Afled or whatever his name was, this girl wasn't always going on about hamburgers or other weird things. Heck, she wasn't even smiling at all.

Once (y/n) handed (2p!name) to the cops and watched them drive away, she dusted off her clothes and headed back to her house, as if none of this had ever happened.

That's when Allen decided to leave the bushes and make a move.

"Nice fighting there, dollface," came his voice, startling her. After recovering from the initial shock that someone had been watching her this whole time,(y/n) managed to speak again.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. She thought he looked familiar, since Allen's appearance strongly ressembled Alfred's.

Allen just chuckled and ignored her question.

"Like what you see, doll?" he said, noticing that she had been staring at him for a few minutes. Unlike most girls he used this line on, (y/n) didn't blush at all. Instead, she just kept talking.

"No, you just look like someone I know," she said, shaking off his attempt at flirting as if it were nothing.

"What's your name, dollface?" asked Allen, taking a few steps closer to the girl, curious to what she might do next.

"(C/n), or (y/n). You're in my country. I'll ask again, what's your name?" said (c/n), crossing her arms. Even though (y/n) was a lot shorter than Allen, she could look just as intimidating.

"And why should I tell you that?" asked Allen, crossing his arms, smirking. Much to his shock, (y/n) just turned on her heel and left, muttering 'Fine, be that way,' under her breath. Most girls would practically beg to talk to him. Why was this one not doing so?

Before she could go inside, however, something made him grab her wrist.

"The name's Allen, dollface," he said, staring into her (e/c) eyes. "Remember it."

For some reason, Allen kept watching (y/n) after that.

It wasn't her looks. The girl looked very average. But he was curious on how she behaved differently from all the others. It fascinated him.

Of course, (y/n) caught him stalking a few times, and he had to make up excuses to make up for his odd behaviour.

(Y/n) didn't always fall for them.

"For goodness' sake Al!" she complained, after finding him staring at her for the billionth time. "What do you want?"

He smirked.

"You have no idea what I want, dollface..." he purred, snaking an arm around her waist discretely. She moved away, smacking him and calling him a pervert. Which was basically telling the truth.

Somehow, even after his attempts at flirting, (y/n) warmed up to Al.

And they became friends.

And unknowingly fell for each other.

"I still can't stand you, Al. I don't know how you have friends," teased (y/n) as she and Allen walked down a beach on her beautiful island. The boy pretended to sob, making her giggle.

"Neither can I. I don't even know why we even talk to each other," agreed Al.

(Y/n) gave him a shove, causing his body to topple over into the sand. He rolled his eyes, as (y/n) laughed her head off.

An unknown rosy colour filled his cheeks, and his eyes widened. Surely, after everything that had happened to him, he wasn't falling in love with a girl that he couldn't bear?

He shook his head, getting back to his feet, thinking that there was no way.

"Sorry about that," came (y/n)'s voice suddenly, interrupting his train of thoughts. Allen couldn't help but realize how much he loved that sound.

The 2p rolled his eyes.

"You're not sorry, doll," he said, looking away.

"You got that right," she said, sticking her tongue out at him and breaking into a run.

"Catch me if you can!" (y/n) called over her shoulder, spotting Al who had subconsciously decided to follow her.

They ran around the beach a few times, before Al finally caught (y/n), tackling her to the ground with a playful growl. She squirmed and wiggled in an attempt to escape his grasp, laughing the whole time, but Allen had an iron grip that (y/n) couldn't break.

"Okay," she said, breathless from both the running and the laughing. "You win. Can you let me go now?"

An idea popped into his head and he flashed his signature smirk.

"I don't think so, dollface~" he tutted. Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Come on Al," she whined. "Why not?"

"Because, I need to get my revenge!"

"You already did!"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Nope," Allen repeated, popping the 'p'.

"Fine," (y/n) gave in. "What are you going to do to me? And I will punch you if it's a rape or something like that!"

"You'll see," purred Al, picking her up bridal style and heading in the direction of the ocean. He ran through the sand easily and quickly, as if she weighed nothing.

A light blush covered her cheeks, too light for Allen to notice. (Y/n) began to panic. She couldn't fall in love with Allen! He annoyed the everliving crap out of her!

So (y/n) fed on the thought that it was the heat and ignored the blossoming colour in her cheeks.

Once Allan reached waist-height in the water, he looked at (y/n) for a few seconds, and the girl could have sworn that she had seen longing and affection flicker through his cold red eyes before a mischievous glow replaced them.

"Allan Jones, don't you dare," said (y/n) realising what he was about to do.

Of course, he didn't listen.

Splash! (Y/n) was thrown into the water. Disoriented, the girl sunk for a second, before pushing upwards and resurfacing.

"Allll!" she whined, laughing and scanning the horizon for his face.

"What the hell..." she said, realizing that Allen was nowhere to be seen. How could someone swin so quickly? Or had she been in the water for more than five seconds?

"Whatever," she mumbled, swimming back to shore. "I'll catch him later..."

(Y/n) didn't see Allen again for the next week.

At first, she thought it was some kind of prank, planning to annoy her or something, but after four days, (y/n) began to worry. What if a shark had gotten to him when he threw her into the water? Or what if he got captured?

"Don't be stupid," she would tell herself when in doubt. "Al is way too strong for that."

It helped at first, but her worries only increased with time, guilt and pain adding themselves to the pity party.

But one day, a familiar style of dark brown hair caught (y/n)'s eye. A warm feeling surged through her, and she pushed through a large crowd to catch the person's sleeve.

"Allan!" she called with an amount of happiness that surprised herself.

The person turned around, and sure enough, it was Allan.

But he didn't smirk or try and flirt with (y/n).

He didn't even meet her eyes.

Yanking his sleeve away, Allan spoke.

"Who are you?" bitterness filled his tone. "What do you want?"

Hurt hit (y/n) like a knife stabbing her chest. Did he not remember her at all? Or did he just not want to be around her anymore?

"I'm (c/n)," she said, with slight desperation. "You know, your friend, (y/n)?"

Allan turned on his heel to walk away.

"I don't have any friends," he said sourly over his shoulder.

And he disappeared, leaving (y/n) behind.

Now, you might think that (y/n) went home, heartbroken, and broke into tears, crying all night long.

Well, I'm here to tell you that if that's what you thought, you're wrong.

(Y/n) was sad, of course, but somehow didn't seem to care enough about Allan to cry over him. So she went home, ate some ice cream and watched a season of (fav TV show), acting as normal as ever.

Then during her sleep, she dreamt of (something you like), a serene smile displayed on her lips.

For the next week, although she was sure that he was still around, (y/n) steered clear of Allen, since that was obviously what he wanted. Right?

The girl was sitting on a beach chair on her large balcony peacefully, when a shadow covered her figure. Looking up and removing her sunglasses, she was shocked by who she saw standing there.

Allen Jones, of course.

He did his usual smirk and wink at (y/n). But instead of jumping into his arms, crying and saying how much she missed him, (y/n) decided that it was her turn to have some good ol' revenge.

"Can I help you?" she said, faking an innocent stare.

"Don't play dumb with me, dollface," he said sternly. "I came back for you, why aren't you happy?"

That really ticked (y/n) off for some reason.

"I don't know you," she said, imitating his tone from the last time the girl had talked to the 2p. "Now, would you mind getting out of my house?"

Allen's smirk faded and he shook his head.

"Please," he begged, a faint hint of sadness in his voice. "Forgive me, (y/n)."

She frowned, ignoring the voice in her head that was telling her to forgive him, given how sincere the boy sounded.

"And why should I?" asked (y/n), annoyance sounding through her words. "You did leave me without saying goodbye, and then pretended to not know me at all!"

Much to the girl's shock, Al cringed at her words, running a hand through his dark brown hair and sighing.

"I know. You have every right to be mad," he mumbled, looking at his feet. (Y/n) raised her eyebrows. Had he really just agreed with something she had said? Weird.

"I'll forgive you if you answer one question," she said, and the 2p nodded, eyes still on the floor.

"Alright, dollface," he said, with somewhat of a regain of his old tone. "Shoot."

"Tell me exactly what happened and why you just left me in the Pacific Ocean."

His body stiffened, crismon eyes narrowing to slits. Hands balled into fists, he just stood still for a few minutes, while (y/n) waited patiently for his response.

With a sigh, he began speaking.

"I don't know why I did it," he said. "Why I ever talked to you. I guess in my eyes, you were different. You know, not like the other girls in some ways. At first, I wanted to, well, get you to fall for me like all those other ones, but you always refused. I guess it made me even more determined.

"But then, I started having these weird fuzzy feelings in my stomach. I ignored them, thinking it was just a stomach ache, but then I realized that I only had that feeling when I was around you.

"It made me so mad, to find out that I had fallen for you. So I tried to run away and hoped that I could move on, but I couldn't. I felt guilty every day. I couldn't bear it. So here I am."

(Y/n) stayed silent for a few seconds, letting the words sink in. He loved her, that's why he came back.

But he didn't want love, so why did he even bother? Sure, there was guilt, but he's a murderer, so he must have experiences with guilt.

"Why did you come back?" she asked softly. "You've known worse guilt than this, and you said yourself that you can't stand me."

"That's just the problem," said Allen, heaving a sigh. "I can't stand being around you. But I can't stay away from you."

Quiet.

Absolute silence filled the air, interrupted only by the rustle of nearby leaves and happy cries from people in the nearby beaches.

The sun was setting. The light radiated off (y/n) and Allen's faces, as they both stared at each other with no emotion.

Neither of them knew what to do next.

Yet something made the two come together. Something made their lips crash together passionately.

They kissed for an amazingly long time, until one of the two broke apart.

"I love you, dollface," said Allan, kissing (y/n)'s neck.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes.

"You really need to find me a new nickname," she said teasingly, pulling his mouth to hers again.

"Fine then," he spoke once they had parted again.

"Oh," she added. "I love you too, you idiot."

~The rest is up to you~


	5. Canada x Reader- Gold!

An anxious sigh left (y/n)'s lips.

Today's the day, she thought nervously, rubbing her eyes and checking her alarm clock. It read 6:00 AM. Perfect. She would have enough time for a morning jog and a bit of practice before the game.

The gold medal game, to be precise.

It was America vs Canada, like always. (Y/n)'s country had a great reputation with all things hockey, but even she had to admit that the Americans were getting better every year.

Nervousness was the only emotion in the girl's mind as she quickly showered, humming a tune under her breath. Afterwards, she slipped into some leggings and a running jacket.

The bitter cool of Sochi blew into her face when (y/n) walked outside, causing a shiver to run down her spine, and she secretly thanked her lucky stars to be used to the cold, unlike some of the unfortunate Mexicans that were shivering uncontrollably that morning.

Taking a deep breath, the girl plucked in her earbuds, and began jogging.

"(Y/n)! Snap out of it!" (y/n) shook her head, shooing away all her preoccupations and focusing on her coach, whom was giving a lecture to all the players of the team.

"Sorry," she mumbled, running a hand through her messy (h/c) hair, which she wasn't bothering to tie until the game.

"Right!" continued the coach. "So, we have great players. If we..."

She went on, with (y/n) listening more intently this time.

After a few more hours of strategy drabble, (y/n) and the other girls on her team were able to leave the changing room for a bit to buy something to eat before the big match.

(Y/n) wasn't sure she would be able to eat at all, though.

But she went with Marie-Phillip Poulin (an AMAZING canadian hockey player that scored TWO goals in the gold medal game!) and some other girls to a restaurant anyways, in the hope of seeing Matthew Williams again.

Matthew was a hockey player on the men's team. And he was a dang good one too. The best one, in (y/n)'s opinion.

Since the men's team would be watching the women's game and vice-versa, everyone had agreed to eat a meal together before both games.

So there they were, in their olympic jackets, hats and mittens that all said 'Canada' on them.

(Y/n) spotted Matthew in a matter of seconds, unusual blond curl sticking out of his hat, with that shy smile that made her heart melt. He was extremely shy and polite, although it didn't seem that way on the ice.

"Hey Matt!" (y/n) greeted happily, giving him a soft hug which he happily returned.

"A-Allo (y/n)! (Hi (y/n))!" replied Matt, using one of Canada's official languages, French.

"Ça va? (Doing okay?)" asked Matt, staring into her (e/c) eyes with his lavender ones.

"Honnêtement, je me sens nerveuse en tabarnak, (honestly, I'm nervous as (Canadian French swear word that I don't know how to translate))," said (y/n) earning a laugh and a smile from Matt.

The two then sat down next to each other, talking mostly to one another throughout the meal, with (y/n) feeling like she was about to throw up.

It all came so fast after that.

(Y/n) was already putting her skates, helmet and jersey on for the game. A tense atmosphere was hanging in the changing room, confirming (y/n)'s suspicions that everyone else felt about as nervous as she did.

She grabbed her stick, hands trembling, and waited for the door that led to the rink to open with Marie at her side. The two gave each other nervous smiles as a blinding light and the cheers of fans leaked into the room, then skated onto the ice in quick strides.

Looking around (y/n) could see all the fans that went to lengths to support their team. She could see Americans brandishing their flags frantically, shouting "USA!". She could see Canadians supporting her team, temporary tattoos of maple leaves on their faces. Some Canadians even put on a onesie of their flag, and were dancing in an attempt to catch the players' attention.

As nervous as she was, (y/n) couldn't help but smile at that.

Warm-up was over. It was 2nd period at the moment. Nobody had scored during first, but some had come pretty close, on both sides.

(Y/n) was currently skating around, looking for ways that she could assist her teammates.

To the girl's horror and to the American fans' pleasure, the puck slid into her goal, meaning that USA had just scored a point.

As she watched the American team hit each others' helmets in congratulations, she told herself that the Canadian team could catch up easily, after all it was just one point.

(Y/n) was feeling seriously discouraged at this point.

The other team was winning 2-0, and third period was almost over. If only they could catch up and at least go in overtime...

That, she thought, would be the comeback of the year.

The girl was feeling rather depressed, until she spotted the puck skimming across the ice, in her direction. Her heart gave an excited jump as she spotted Jenner across the ice, in a great shooting position.

Without thinking that much, (y/n) sent the puck flying in Jenner's direction.

And Canada's first goal was made, giving the whole team a new spark of hope.

(Y/n) couldn't believe it. They were going in overtime.

Poulin had scored a 2nd goal, only seconds away from the end of 2nd period.

None of them could believe their luck. It was like a miracle.

The girl felt more competitive than before when her team went back onto the ice, causing more excited cheers from the crowd, who was itching for the game to end, to know who would take the gold medal home.

The teams took their positions on the ice. The referee dropped the puck.

The final stand for 1st place had begun.

The determination in (y/n)'s eyes burned almost as bright as her passion for the sport, in Matthew's opinion.

He and his brother, Alfred F. Jones- on the American men's team- were on the edge of their seats as the players skated quickly across the ice, opposing teams becoming more and more aggressively nervous.

Matthew's eyes were on one person, most of the time. (Y/n). She was a player on the women's hockey team. A dang good one too. The best one, in Matthew's opinion.

He could almost feel her determination from way up in the stands, where the Canadian and American teams sat, both cheering on their country's team.

Come on, (y/n), he thought to nobody in particular. I know you can win. Do it for me.

It all happened so fast.

(Y/n) was growing increasingly worried that the Americans would score again, but she didn't let her doubts get to her game.

Skating quickly as ever, breathing becoming heavier every minute, (y/n) was keeping herself near the American goal, just as the coach had suggested in one of the team's strategy plans.

That was definitely one of her best choices.

It all happened so fast, the puck directed toward her by Poulin, (y/n)'s reflex to swing her stick, sending it toward the goal in a black blur.

The girl didn't even see if it had scored. But the frantically happy cheers of her fans and teammates told her that it had.

Everyone in the Canadian team rushed to hug her, slapping her helmet and squishing her in the process.

In the midst of all the congratulations, (y/n) let out a content sigh.

She had scored in overtime. Her team had won.

Matthew and his fellow Canadians were cheering their team on, more frantically than usual, as they waited for someone's team to score.

Alfred and his fellow Americans were doing the same, until someone did score.

The Canadian fans and team let out a happy cheer, hugging each other as the players rushed toward the scoring player.

Matthew only had to glance at her figure to know that (y/n) had sealed their match with a gold.

He joined his friends in the cheers, internally laughing at Alfred's face, which was buried in the American's hands, as he realized that his country had lost to Canada yet again.

Matt wanted only one thing after this; to see (y/n).

They took photos of (y/n)'s team, as the girls all showed off their medals. She was laughing again, all anxiety gone with the American's chance of having a gold medal this year.

After all the pictures and congratulations, (y/n) and the girls headed to their hotels, promising to go out to the bar when they were less tired.

On the way to her hotel, (y/n) heard her name being called by an all-too-familiar-voice.

"(Y/n)! Hey, wait up!" Matthew. With a smile, (y/n) turned in the direction of his voice, spotting him running at full speed toward her, scarf flying behind him.

"Hey Matt!" she greeted happily, once he was by her side.

"You won! You won!" he said just as happily, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug, most unlike him.

"Yeah!" the girl agreed, hugging back just as eagerly. The separated, and silence fell over them, along with a few snowflakes.

A blush covered (y/n)'s cheeks and she looked away, refusing to meet Matt's soft gaze.

The pink in her cheeks deepened to a shade of crimson when the Canadian boy slipped his hands into hers ever so slightly and gave a sweet smile, full of affection.

(Y/n) couldn't look away anymore. (E/c) eyes met Lavender ones and the two drew closer very slowly, until the point where their lips were almost touching.

Almost.

Matthew hesitated for a second, still as insecure as ever.

"D-do you mind i-if-" he started to whisper, but (y/n) cut him off by pressing her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck and smiling into the kiss. Matt's hands found their way around her waist and they stayed like this until they just couldn't breathe anymore.

"J-je t'aime, (y/n)," said Matthew, kissing (y/n)'s cheek, her neck and her lips again.

"Je t'aime aussi, Matthew," replied (y/n). They linked hands and headed toward her hotel together, hesitating at the door.

The girl just smiled warmly at him and gestured for him to follow her inside, thinking that she had won so much more than just a gold medal today.


	6. Russia x Reader- Love me, da?

'The world pushed me to the breaking point,

and when I pushed back,

the world pointed and cried 'evil!''

(C/n) and Lithuania were practically inseparable.

The girl's country was just north of the boy's, although it was sometimes hard to tell if they weren't one nation or not.

Always by each other's side, the two were obvious siblings, Lithuania being the eldest.

They were overprotective of each other, never giving up on one another.

Well, at least they were, until he came and ruined their bond.

When he took Lithuania away from (c/n) to have him work at his house, she was left behind, devastated and all hope gone.

It was 10 years before (c/n) decided to go after her big brother, to save him from the terror known as Russia or Ivan Braginski.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, through her nose and out her mouth.

The bitter cold near the Russian border filled her lungs and a shiver ran down her spine, not only caused by the cool air.

Yes, (c/n) had made a decision; to save her big brother, Lithuania, from the clutches of Russia, the terrifyingly large country that took up most of Asia.

She was going to get him home, even if it meant taking his place herself.

The girl's mind was crowded by anxiety and worry as she stepped across the border, embracing the cold ever further. She knew that she might be attacked by the Russian military at any moment, for border-crossing without going through any questioning or checking.

But (c/n) hoped that being a country would be an acceptable excuse for her ignorance.

The girl trudged through the snow for a few days, only alive because of the advantages of being a nation, until she reached a train station. Hungry and shivering, (y/n) shovelled down countless traditional Russian meals and boarded the train, telling the conductor that she was a country and that this matter was urgent.

Then, some time later the train arrived at (c/n)'s awaited destination: Moscow, the capital of Russia, where it's human personification would be found.

(Y/n) didn't need to ask for directions; his house was so big that there was no way you could miss it.

When the nation got to Russia's doorstep, she couldn't help but tremble slightly as she recalled all the rumours she had heard before. What if he killed her? What if she was forced to stay with him forever?

(Y/n) steeled her nerves and rang the doorbell, repeating to herself that Lithuania's case could only worsen with every second she wasted.

After a few rings, the large wooden barricade opened, and much to (c/n)'s relief, there stood a small quivering boy that the girl guessed as Latvia from his size. With a slight smile, (y/n) informed him that she wanted to have a word with Russia.

After those words, all colour drained away from Latvia's face and his trembles became more definite.

"I-I would r-recommend that you d-don't talk to h-him," stuttered Latvia in a hushed tone, almost as if he was worried that someone might be listening.

"Why?" asked (y/n), raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"B-because," continued Latvia. "O-once you go i-in, you n-never come out... Plus, Mr R-Russia loves to invade o-others..."

(Y/n) gulped, but kept a straight face nonetheless.

"I need to see Russia," she repeated, though less certainly this time.

Latvia asked her one last time if she was sure of her decision. When she gave a slow nod, he opened the door widely and bid her good luck.

'Thanks, Latvia,' thought the girl, walking down the hall which the small boy had told her led to the massive country's office. I think I'm going to need it.'

Russia was more than shocked to see that someone had come to visit him that day.

Most people either ran from him or stayed at least a mile away. And then they wondered why he didn't have any friends.

Russia was even more surprised when he saw that it was (c/n) that had come to visit him.

(C/n). Lithuania's little sister.

The country he had been planning to overthrow.

So, the delight in Russia's eyes was evident when the slender figure of the nation slipped into his office without even bothering to knock. One glance showed the male all he needed to see. She had an amazingly straight posture. A don't-you-dare-mess-with-me-look. Stern and unforgiving (e/c) eyes. Neatly tied (h/c) hair.

He loved a challenge when he saw it.

"Привет (Hello). I'm Russia," he said with his usual creepy aura that made all nations tremble.

She didn't even flinch.

"I am known as (c/n)," began (c/n), tone not faltering once. "I need to speak with you."

"About what?" asked Russia, still smiling, but feeling somewhat confused toward the girl. Why wasn't she scared? Didn't she know who he was?

"About my brother, Lithuania," said (y/n). The menace in her voice increased, but her face still showed no emotion. "I would like for you to set him free."

"And why should I do that?"

"Because, if you don't, I will have to kill you right here and now."

Russia chuckled darkly, as (y/n) pulled out a small pistol from her purse.

"I will be making deal with you," said Russia, intimidating grin growing. (Y/n) kept her gun aimed at him.

"What deal?" she asked, hoping that it would be a good one, considering that she had no intention of killing the huge country, in hope of keeping the peace.

Russia's aura darkened from a deep purple to jet black at these words.

"I will be letting go of Lithuania, if you stay at my house, подсолнечник (sunflower)."

Seeing Lithuania leave Russia's house was the last glimpse of happiness (y/n) thought she'd ever have.

The agreement was signed. There was no turning back. Although Lithuania was now safe, (c/n) was in her brother's place, stuck in Russia's house forever, or at least until someone saved her. Which was highly unlikely. So, the girl gave up any hopes of leaving some day.

"(C/n)! Time for you to make breakfast!" Oh great. Russia was calling her.

'You sexist bastard!' thought (y/n), huffing irritably. She wished she could say these things out loud, but part of the contract that was saving Lithuania said that manners were an order.

That being said, (c/n) didn't have any other choice but to storm downstairs and cook the tall Russian man some beef stroganov.

She hated him.

(C/n) had thought that she couldn't dislike Russia any more than she did when he took her brother away, when he forced her to stay with him, but boy, was she wrong.

Although lashing out at the country that now controlled her was against the rules, (y/n) still gave Russia the evil eye when he did anything involving her, even if it was just walking by.

Russia was forcing her to work day and night, everywhere in the house. She slept on a filthy matress in a small closet, even though there were plenty of deserted rooms in the gigantic house. Her food was mostly leftovers that Russia hadn't eaten, and she wasn't allowed to cook for herself. Even Latvia and Estonia had an easier life than she did.

The girl was a mess. Skin and bones. Dark bags traced under her eyes. Hands red from cleaning.

But, she was undeniably strong. And as sane as ever.

After a while of the so-called prison life, (c/n) spent most of her free time in the sunflower field she had found in one of the rooms.

Since the flowers couldn't grow in the cold weather outside, she guessed that Russia had decided to grow them in one of the many rooms that composed the large home.

She still didn't understand how Russia would have wanted anything this beautiful in his house.

The girl wasted away hours lying down in the middle of the field, gazing at the glass ceiling and watching the snow fall endlessly, knowing that she was safe from the cold.

Then, one day, the girl began to notice some things.

Russia wasn't calling her as often. She was given less chores. More free time. It was almost as if he knew...

There was no way he could possibly have figured it out. (C/n) always closed the door when she went into the room.

(C/n) let out a content sigh as she pet her only friend other than Latvia and Estonia, a dog that had somehow turned up at the door when she had taken out the trash. Yet another reason to add to her doubts of Russia snooping on her.

The female puppy aged no more than 5 months, and was the most adorable thing (c/n) had ever laid eyes on. It had a thick white coat of luscious fur that she loved to stroke, beautiful hazel eyes that made her heart melt and the biggest heart she had ever known.

When Russia had seen the puppy (it loyally followed (y/n) everywhere), he had cast one look at it and continued walking, face as creepy as ever.

Weird.

But then again, what wasn't weird these days?

The puppy let out a playful growl and began running in quick circles around the girl, interrupting her train of thoughts. With a little laugh, she let herself fall onto her back.

The little creature she had finally named Winter after its silky white fur snuggled into her side, wiggling its' tiny tail.

(C/n) closed her eyes and for the first time in a while, easily and contently fell asleep.

It was the only time she didn't frown or scowl at him.

Russia had found (y/n) where he had expected her to be when she didn't answer his calls.

Fallen asleep peacefully in the sunflower field.

Just like he had so many times before.

Very carefully, Russia had picked her skinny, fragile and tired figure up and brought her to a bedroom. Not her usual one (the closet), but a larger one that he had been planning to offer her for a while now.

Winter gave a low growl, before following Russia to the room, being the overprotective companion he was.

She was so beautiful. But she was his servant. And there were to be no affections between them.

For now, at least.

(C/n) was beginning to feel scared, more scared than usual.

Russia had given her a bigger, much more luxurious bedroom and she was now allowed to cook herself supper every two days. Even Winter had been given a kennel.

Although she wasn't complaining about it, the girl thought this was unusual. Maybe he was finally becoming human.

(Y/n) liked to imagine Russia as the devil's close second, not a country and certainly not someone from her world. She thought of her theory as very possible, although no horns had sprouted out of his head yet.

But with the food and the slightly more human lifestyle he gave her, (y/n) decided to let Russia rank as one of the devil's nicer servants.

The girl let out a small chuckle at her imagination, then continued to scrub Russia's sink, Winter at her side.

He loved watching her work.

Everything about it was fascinating. The focus in her eyes. The precision of her scrubbing. How she didn't really seem to mind how red her hands were getting from gripping the rag she was using. How she managed to keep the dog he had 'given' her.

Russia didn't understand why he had some kind of addiction for watching (y/n). He didn't feel anything toward her. He just liked seeing her determination. Or maybe he was just desperate to see her when she wasn't frowning at him.

He made sure to be completely quiet, because the nation didn't think that (y/n) would appreciate it if he fell out of the vent where he was currently hiding. And his reputation would be killed if she found him snooping.

Although it wasn't the most comfortable place to observe the girl, it was much better than hiding in the cupboard or in the toilet.

(Y/n) was humming the tune of "Sky full of stars' by 'Coldplay', while rinsing out the tub one last time before she would be finished.

And Russia began to hum the song everywhere, and all the time.

He was most definitely snooping on her.

(Y/n) had caught him humming the tune of 'Sky full of stars' when she was cooking breakfast early that morning. She recalled singing it when she was cleaning his bathroom, and didn't think Russia was the type to listen to music.

The girl considered her options:

1) To confront him about it.

2) To ignore it and hope he stops.

3) To find his hiding spot and bust him.

She crossed out the first one in her head. There was no way she could prove his snooping and (y/n) didn't want to go back to sleeping in that disgusting closet with the even more gross mattress for blaming him for something.

The second one wouldn't do any harm, but she was pretty sure that Russia wouldn't stop. After all, it was his persistence that got him such vast amounts of land.

That left option no. 3. To find his hiding spot and bust him.

(Y/n) made sure to pass by Russia with a vacuum cleaner that afternoon, and sure enough, he smiled creepily at her, then left, probably going to his hiding spot.

She headed toward the entrance of the immense household, planning to clean up the long red carpet that led to all the rooms. (C/n) leaned her vacuum on the nearby wall and took a brief glance around her.

Now that she really paid attention, the girl realized that the house was once very pretty. The chandeliers that hung on the ceiling seemed very old and rusty now, but (c/n) noticed that if the gold and crystal were to be polished, it would brighten up the house a bit.

The carpet near the door looked awfully filthy for a house that didn't receive that many visitors. And the door had many dents in it. The windows were scratched and covered in spider webs.

Cleaning everything here would take (y/n) all afternoon, and even some of tomorrow. What a great excuse for scanning everywhere for hiding spots.

The country waited a few minutes to allow Russia to get into 'snooping position'.

With a small sigh, she began cleaning.

(Y/n) had busted Russia before she had actually planned to.

When the girl had opened the coat closet door to see if she had to clean inside, she had found him crouching near the door, most likely using the window in it to watch (y/n) when she wasn't looking.

(C/n) gave a small shriek and Russia smiled more nervously than usual.

"Привет (hello), (c/n). How are you today?" asked the boy in hope of directing her attention away from the reason why he was hiding in the closet.

"I'm fine. Could you please tell me why the heck you're hiding in the closet?" asked (y/n). Russia stood and dusted off his usual brown coat.

"I-I," he didn't know what to say. Adjusting his scarf, the nation attempted to walk out of the closet, only to be stopped by (y/n) at the door.

"You were spying on me," said (c/n), frowning. "Weren't you?"

"N-no," denied Russia, still trying to find an escape.

(C/n) gave him a do-you-really-think-I'm-that-stupid look and he sighed in submission, much to the girl's shock.

"Alright then," said Russia. "I will be telling the truth. I like to be watching you doing work, and I don't know why."

(Y/n) frowned in confusion. He wasn't trying to murder her, after all. But why did he have an obsession with watching her?

"But why?" asked (c/n). "I don't understand. You don't watch Latvia and Estonia, do you?"

"Нет (no), they're not as interesting," admitted Russia.

"Interesting?" pushed (c/n).

Russia sighed again, but didn't say anything. He just grabbed (c/n)'s hand and brought her to the door. He gestured for her to put on her coat, and once she had, they headed out of the house.

"W-Where are we going?" asked the girl, anxiety and the cold causing her to shiver.

He didn't answer. And they kept walking, him clinging onto (y/n)'s hand and dragging her along.

They had been walking for hours before (y/n) could tell where they were going. When she realized, she stopped in her tracks for a few seconds, before Russia gave her arm a sharp tug and she was forced to keep walking.

"My treat, да," said Russia, leading (y/n) into an expensive looking clothes store.

(Y/n) had told him that he couldn't, but he had turned her down, saying that she needed to look nice for where he was taking her.

So, the girl chose something pretty, although she made sure it wasn't too expensive.

(Think of nyo!Russia's outfit for reader-chan's)

A pink coat with pom-poms hanging around her neck replaced (y/n)'s older, worn out and duller brown coat. On her legs were by beige jeggings and a cute pink tuque covered her head of (h/c) hair.

(C/n) thanked Russia awkwardly, still not understanding why he was taking her out to dinner.

They ate at an amazingly expensive restaurant, and went home in silence.

The calm quiet was broken when (c/n) couldn't hold in her questions anymore.

"Why did you do all this for me?" blurted out (y/n). Russia looked at her as if she was stupid, but explained nonetheless.

"Моя прекрасная подсолнечника (my beautiful sunflower), you fascinate me. Я люблю тебя (I love you)," said Russia, entwining his fingers with (y/n)'s.

She frowned in confusion, not understanding the foreign language he spoke. He just smiled happily, and stopped walking, letting the snow fall on their shoulders.

"Love me, да?" asked Russia softly.

His question took her completely by surprise. Was Russia confessing to her? She didn't know what to say.

(Y/n) didn't even know if she had feelings for the Russian in the first place.

He was hurt by her hesitation, but he would completely understand if she rejected him. Russia had treated her like garbage, after all.

"I-I," began (y/n). "I d-don't know..."

Tears began to form in his now soft violet eyes, and he stared at the ground.

"That's okay," muttered Russia. "I am in understanding."

He didn't call her anymore.

He made his own food. They never talked, unless it was something entirely professional.

She wasn't forced to clean. Estonia and Latvia did all the work.

It was as if she had completely disappeared. Or as if he was scared of something else.

One day, (y/n) noticed that a pretty young girl had joined the household. When (y/n) had asked her name, mysterious girl had hissed at (c/n) and muttered something under her breath that sounded an awful lot like:

"Big brother is mine. He will marry me..."

Russia was never around anymore. And sometimes, (y/n) heard his screams of 'GO AWAY!' during the night, along with relentless banging on a door.

Later, (c/n) was told by Estonia that the new angry girl was Russia's little sister Belarus, and that she was obsessed with him.

Well. That explained the constant cries of 'MARRY ME!'.

But one day, when (y/n) couldn't sleep because of the hard knocking on Russia's door, something different happened.

Russia was actually screaming back at his sister. He said that he loved someone else and that he didn't want to marry her.

Belarus became so angry that she ran to (y/n)'s room (which was thankfully locked) and began hitting it as hard as she could.

"YOU!" screeched Belarus. "YOU STOLE BIG BROTHER FROM ME!"

(Y/n) gulped, as the door's hinges loosened. Although she was scared, (c/n) was going to fight her, for both herself and Russia.

So she grabbed a frying pan that was conveniently placed in one of the girl's drawers, and opened the door, armed and ready.

"I'm warning you," threatened (y/n), all colour fading from her skin when she saw that Belarus was holding a knife. "Leave me alone."

"NEVER!" screamed Belarus, lunging at (c/n) with a blow that (c/n) barely dodged. Although Bella was scary-looking, she wasn't as strong or as smart as (y/n).

After a few attempts, (c/n) managed to knock out Russia's crazy sister.

"(C/n)!" came another voice from down the hall. She looked up form Belarus' unconscious body and saw Russia running toward her.

"I'm so sorry, подсолнечник! Are you okay?" (c/n) had never heard so much concern in anyone's voice before, let alone Russia's.

(Y/n) nodded and apologized for knocking out Bella.

(Y/n) was almost certain that she loved Russia back.

Not because he was kind or handsome, because he wasn't much of either of those things. She loved him, for some reason.

Maybe it was because he was overprotective. Maybe it was how he had a soft side after all. (Y/n) wasn't sure why she loved him at all.

But she did.

That night, she found Russia lying in her usual spot in the sunflower field. (Y/n) said nothing, and settled herself next to him.

Their fingers entwined. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and felt his body tense slightly.

"Hey," she said.

"Hello," he said.

"How are you?"

"Okay."

Neither of them really knew what to say.

"Do you still love me?" asked (c/n) suddenly.

Russia hesitated, but answered nonetheless.

"Д-да (yes)," said Russia.

Cue awkward silence.

"L-Love me, да?" asked Russia, recalling the last time he had confessed to (y/n).

She looked into his begging purple eyes and felt herself melt.

(C/n) had barely replied 'да' when Russia threw himself at her, covering her body in soft little kisses.

They sat up, arms around each other, not caring how many flowers got squashed under their weight.

"I think we should go to my room," said Russia, not bothering to wait for an answer from (c/n). He scooped her up in his muscled arms and quickly ran to his room.

He set her down gently onto his bed and whispered in her ear.

"Я люблю тебя, моя прекрасная подсолнечника."

~The rest if up to you~


	7. Nazi Germany x Reader- Regretless

****This is based off the song 'Regretless' by Richard Walters. Listen to it here: watch?v=vgvfb7JQf4o

'You should've been a father to your mother,

You could've been a better brother,

But, oh, let it go...'

Nobody liked wars.

Nobody. Not even the powerful (c/n), who didn't often get into battles, who fought hard for what she believed in.

And right now, Germany- one of (y/n)'s past friends- was causing quarrels that the girl knew might blossom into war from many past experiences.

That being said, the country had made a decision: to talk to Germany and prevent a war from occurring.

An autumn coat on her seemingly fragile shoulders, (c/n) walked determinedly toward the German border, toward the nearest guard that would analyze her (border regulations).

Her eyes squinted slightly as she noticed an unusual red piece of fabric around one of the German guard's arms from the distance. (C/n) kept walking forward, although more slowly this time, the muddy ground from yesterday's rain squelching beneath her feet.

(Y/n) got a closer look at the armband. Around the edges were black stripes, and in the middle, in a white circle somewhat stained with dirt, there was an odd symbol that she had never seen before. It almost looked like the Swatiska (Google it), the one in Indian religions, but there were no little dots between the lines that form the equilateral cross.

"Komm, dann. Ich habe nicht den ganzen Tag, (Come on, then. I don't have all day,)" said the increasingly impatient German border guard.

"Ja, ja, schon gut, (Yes, yes, alright,)" replied (c/n) quickly, hoping her German wasn't too rusty to make her seem overly suspicious.

"Wie ist dein Name, Mädchen? (What's your name, girl?)" asked the guard, taking (y/n) and inspecting her.

"Ich bin ein Land. Mein Name ist (c/n), (I am a country. My name is (c/n),)" said (c/n), adjusting her posture so it seemed a little more superior and intimidating.

"Wo gehst du hin? Wie lange? (Where are you going? How long?)" questioned the German, completely ignoring the fact that he was talking to a country now, much to (y/n)'s irritation.

"Ich werde Deutschland zu sehen. Ich weiß nicht, wie lange es dauern wird, (I am going to see Germany. I don't know how long it will take,)" answered (y/n), feeling disrespected. For goodness sake, the least he could do was treat her better than he treated others!

The soldier chuckled.

"Nichts falsch, schön zu tun. Die Strafen werden schwerwiegend sein, (Don't do anything wrong, beautiful. The punishments will be severe,)" he said. Her eyes flickered from his armband and back to his face.

"Ja," she said, leaving without saying goodbye. It's not like she knew him anyways.

(Y/n) proceeded to trudge through the swamp-like ground that didn't seem to end, thanking no one in particular for the fact that she wore thick, heavy duty boots. They were so useful that (c/n) thought that she could probably walk through a lake without getting her feet wet. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. But the boots were effective.

The girl's thoughts were pulled away from her footwear when voices reached her sensitive country ears. She cupped her ear and listened whilst still moving forward.

"Helfen Sie uns bitte!(Help us please!)" called a weak woman's voice.

"Halt den Mund! Niemand kann Ihnen zu hören, (Shut up! Nobody can hear you,)" scolded a ruthless voice.

A loud crack of a whip sounded and the woman let out a cry of pain. (Y/n) gasped and broke into a run, her country instinct to help the people kicking in.

"Mutti (Mom)!" a crying boy said. "Stoppen Sie ihr weh!(Stop hurting her!)"

(C/n) was moving at such a speed that it seemed inhuman.

"Wie werden Sie mich zu stoppen? (How will you stop me?)" chuckled the merciless voice.

Another crack of a whip and another feminine scream.

"Hör auf! (Stop it!)" cried the little boy. "Ich werde Sie kämpfen!(I'll fight you!)"

A silence filled the harsh air as (y/n) pressed forward, only to be broken by a heartless laugh.

"Du wirst mich kämpfen? Mal sehen, (You'll fight me? Let's see,)" taunted the evil-sounding voice.

Finally, (c/n) was able to spot the poor mother and son, who were placed just outside of a guarded, fenced area whose people were skin and bones. The woman lay whimpering on the filthy ground as the son stood bravely in attempt to defend her.

(Y/n)'s heart stopped when the soldier- who wore the same armband as the border guard- raised a blood-stained whip over the boy.

"Stop!" cried (y/n), completely forgetting that she was supposed to speak in German to the soldiers. "Stop it!"

Luckily for the boy, the soldier somewhat understood English, and paused his arm to take a look at the girl whom had dared to order him around.

"And vhat vill you do, frau?" asked the cruel man. "I don't zhink zhat jou vould like to join zhem, vould jou?"

"Stop it," she said, completely ignoring his remark, "now."

The soldier looked at her for a moment with utter disgust. Then, he grabbed her wrist rather violently and pulled her toward him.

"Stay out of zhis," he warned. "Or must jou feel pain also?"

(Y/n) twisted her arm to free herself, injuring his wrist in the process. The soldier clutched it in both pain and awe.

"Careful," cautioned (c/n), "you don't know who you're messing with."

A spark of recognition flickered in the soldier's eyes and for a moment, he seemed scared. (Y/n) ignored him and turned to the two family members that watched with shock.

"Come on," she said, helping the mother to her feet and grabbing both of their hands. "You have to leave. Move to my country. There, you'll be safer."

Although (y/n) felt a guilty urge to release the rest of the prisoners, she knew that there would be no way that she could go through all the guards by herself. Not now, at least. Plus, she had a mission to accomplish.

The girl sprinted away from the scene after wishing the small family the best of luck and giving them one of her spare pistols, just in case. A few guards tried chasing her, but eventually gave up since it was pretty much hopeless to chase a superhuman, to chase an immortal country.

'It never quite goes or leaves me alone,

A pantomime in silhouettes goes on and on,

A sleepless unknown, no, let me go...'

Some hours later, (y/n) reached a fairly safe cafe, entitled 'Café der Deutsch Weise'. Fortunately, there weren't any armband-displaying soldiers and let she herself unwind slightly.

"Möchten Sie etwas zu essen oder trinken?" asked a kind-looking waiter, startling (c/n) slightly.

"Uh," said (y/n), rather stupidly as she was recovering from her small scare. "Ja. Kaffee bitte. (Yes. Coffee please.)"

The waiter smiled, nodded, and rushed back to the kitchen where he prepared the girl's coffee, permitting her to think a little.

The cafe was completely empty, for some reason. It didn't look worn out, nor damaged. If anything, the cafe was welcoming and warm. But something seemed eerie...

(Y/n) shook her head, clearing her mind. She was just paranoid. Yeah, that was it.

The country wondered why nobody seemed to recognize her as the nation of (c/n) until she showed her superhuman powers or told them herself. Maybe it was because she was keeping a low profile. (Y/n) guessed that it was the black hoodie that she wore, or maybe because she looked extremely average.

"Ihren Kaffee, gnädige Frau, (Your coffee, madam,)" came the waiter's voice out of nowhere, once again scaring the country, interrupting her train of thoughts.

"D-Danke, (Thank you)" stuttered (y/n). He chuckled and sat next to her.

"Warum bist du hierher gekommen? (Why did you come here?)" asked the man, as (y/n) took a sip of her coffee.

The country swallowed, the warm substance soothing her cold throat. She knew that she couldn't tell him why she was truly there.

'To gather up some strength before seeing Germany again,' she thought silently. 'To get away from all the freaky armband-soldiers.'

"Ich wollte einfach nur einen Kaffee, (I just wanted some coffee,)" she said. At least it was somewhat truthful.

The waiter smiled. Although (c/n) didn't trust him yet, she couldn't help but ask him some questions that kept repeating themselves in her mind.

"Wer sind die neuen Soldaten? Du weißt schon, die, die mit den Armbinden, (Who are the new soldiers? You know, the ones with the armbands,)" questionned (y/n).

His grin faded, replaced by a worried expression. He gestured for her to approach his face.

"Sie nennen sich die Nazi-Partei, (They call themselves the Nazi Party,)" whispered the man, as if he was worried that someone terrible might be watching.

She frowned slightly in puzzlement. The Nazi Party? (C/n) had never heard of such a thing.

The waiter ignored her confusion and stood.

"Ich muss gehen. Nur nicht in Schwierigkeiten mit ihnen zu bekommen... (I have to leave. Just don't get into trouble with them...)" he said suddenly, walking away rapidly, all welcomeness gone.

(C/n), although still disoriented, now knew one thing; that the 'Nazi Party' hadn't been in Germany when she last visited. Maybe they were the ones causing all of the commotion...

The girl said a small "thanks," to the already-gone Cafe waiter, stood, and exited the place, ringing a small bell attached to the door.

A cold breeze blew over her face and she gasped in unpleasant surprise.

"Stupid winter," she muttered, jogging forward.

(Y/n) passed quite a few more odd scenes as she moved toward Berlin, where Germany's mansion stood tall and proud. They were things such as Nazis abusing people, Nazis randomly grabbing individuals that bore the Star of David... Scandalizing events, generally. It took all of (c/n)'s self-control not to attack them, to hurt them for what she saw them do to innocents. Even with that, the girl had to repeat to herself that all of this would end if she stopped Germany before a war happened.

'It will stop,' she would think in a moment of anger and outrage. 'Germany will understand. He has to. He will stop the Nazi Party.'

(C/n) had started subconsciously mumbling the phrase under her breath by the time she finally reached Berlin. There were many, many Nazis everywhere. And here, they were worse.

(Y/n) saw a man get pushed to his knees and dragged away, along with two boys no older than ten and an elderly woman that begged for mercy. They were then shoved into an overly crowded wagon with small barred windows, joining many other completely normal-looking people that all had a sad, hopeless look in their eyes.

One of them met (y/n)'s eyes. A girl, around seven, stuffed between the rest of the people, wearing nothing but rags. She didn't smile, nor frown, nor cry. She just looked.

The wagon pulled away. The girl was gone.

(Y/n) stared at the pavement and felt a tear rolling down her cheek.

'I gave my soul to my own regret's ghost for a good night's sleep...'

(C/n) knocked on the German mansion's door once. Twice. Thrice.

She was about to pound for the fourth time when an extremely irritated-looking guard opened the door.

"Was willst du, Frau? (What do you want, woman?)" asked the guard, whom (y/n) could tell was a Nazi without even looking at his arm.

"Ich muss Deutschland sehen, (I must see Germany,)" said (y/n) through gritted teeth, angered at the man for both his disrespect toward her as a country and at the fact that he was a part of the horrible Nazi Party.

He laughed as if (y/n) was a child with hopeless dreams.

"Wer bist du eigentlich? (Who are you, exactly?)" asked the German guard.

(Y/n) gave a hypocrite smile.

"Ich dachte, du würdest nie fragen, (I thought you'd never ask,)" she said. "Ich bin das Land der (c/n). (I am the land of (c/n).)"

The guard was slightly frightened by the fiery look in (y/n)'s sweet (e/c) eyes, and he stumbled nervously backward, opening the door roughly.

He gestured awkwardly for her to go inside. She did so, irritated when he started following her.

(C/n) stopped at the end of a hallway when she realized that she had no idea where she was headed.

"Wo ist er? (Where is he?)" she asked the guard without turning her head to face him.

"I-In seinem Schlafzimmer, (I-In his bedroom,)" informed nervously, directing (y/n) to a room on her left.

In the bedroom, (y/n) couldn't hear much but the faint rustle of pages and the occasional deep breath. She guessed that Germany was, thankfully, alone.

(C/n) gently tapped her knuckle on the door's polished wooden surface and, immediately, the page-turning ceased.

"Wer ist da? (Who's there?)" asked a deep voice that (c/n) instantly recognized as Germany's.

"Germany," she said, "it's me. I need to talk to you."

There was a few moments of silence before he spoke again.

"(C/n)," he guessed. "Vhat do jou vant?"

"Open the door, Germany," (c/n) said, rolling her eyes. "I need to talk face-to-face."

Reluctant footsteps echoed and the entrance to his chamber opened. Germany looked almost as (y/n) remembered him; blond, slicked-back hair, sharp, strict blue eyes that had no double, and a stiff, disciplined posture.

Almost as she remembered him.

Now, his face showed absolutely no emotion- not even dismay or disappointment. His uniform was different too; his suit was as black as the starless night sky, his pants were as puffy as France's, on his head sat a large cap, and, on his arm, there was an armband...

Her heart fell as she stared at it.

"Y-You're not one of them," she asked desperately, "are you?"

"One of vho?" questioned Germany, still keeping his poker face.

The soldier behind (y/n)- whom she had completely forgotten about- coughed awkwardly, not understanding the English language. Germany dismissed him.

(Y/n) lowered her voice to a whisper. "You're not a... Nazi, are you?" she asked.

Germany stiffened even more, if that was possible.

"Und if I am?" he said. "Is zhat a bad zhing to jou?"

(Y/n) brought a hand to her face and thought a little.

'Maybe he doesn't know what they have done,' thought, desperate for an explanation that would fit the German man she knew.

"Germany," she began slowly, praying that her theory was true and that Germany would stop the killing. "You know they're killing innocent people, right? Bringing them to camps and maki them starve? Torturing them?"

"Ja," he said. "Zhose vere zhe commander's orders."

(Y/n)'s lips were cold and numb, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and shock.

She shook her head over and over again.

"Who are you?" she asked him softly, disbelief ringing in her words.

"I am Bundesrepublik Deutschland," he said as if her question was foolish.

(C/n) met his eyes and placed a hand on the tall man's shoulder.

"This isn't you," she told him, hoping that he would believe her, that he would see how wrong this was. "You don't know what they've done to all these people."

Germany lost his temper.

"You zhink I don't know?" he questioned, tone raising dramatically. "You zhink zhat I am veak?"

He tore (y/n)'s arm away from his shoulder and gave her a shove. She gasped in shock and fell to the ground with a thud.

(C/n)'s one good hand massaged her now-bruised arm and she gazed at Germany, although not with worry, nor care this time. She looked at him with a blend of disgust, horror, and, much to her own annoyance, sympathy.

"Ve vill show jou," continued Germany, breaking the silence in which (y/n) lay on the ground in shock. "Ve vill rise."

He began to walk away, but the girl wasn't going to let him have the last word.

"You shall fall, eventually," she said, shifting to a standing position. "Just like Rome did. Just like England did. Your reign will end, especially because of your racism. People will fight back. They always do. You just wait."

Germany stopped walking and (y/n) saw his hands ball into fists.

"Being brave, are ve?" he asked, turning his head slightly.

(Y/n) let go of her somewhat-injured arm and replied, "Honest. Being honest."

In a flash, Germany was back at her side, an intimidating flame burning angrily in his sharp blue eyes.

"Jou don't get it, do jou?" he asked. "Mein country vill rule. Nobody vill ever dare fight us, because ve are too strong. Ve vill not fall."

(Y/n) snorted in disbelief. Germany felt anger boiling to the point where he couldn't take it anymore.

(C/n) was about to say something when Germany couldn't contain his accumulated dishonour, rage, and stress anymore, so he did something quite unforgivable.

He punched (y/n) square in the jaw.

Germany punched another country when they weren't even at war.

And (y/n) was probably the worse person to disrespect in this way.

The girl didn't even fall over this time. Her head just turned roughly after making contact with Germany's knuckle.

"I see how it is," she said, wiping some blood away from her mouth.

Now, (c/n) was a reasonable country, quite capable of managing her anger. So, she didn't hit Germany back, nor start yelling at him.

"If you don't listen, I won't be on your side," she said softly, feeling as if she had no other choice than to make a decision.

"So be it," said Germany, eyes still sneering into hers.

'Regretless,' he thought. 'That's how I'll go.'

"Fine," she said, taking a deep breath internally. "I, (full country name), declare war on you, Bundesrepublik Deutschland."

She walked away from him and his home, jumping out of one of the windows and fleeing back to her home where she could announce this to her troops and prepare for battle.

And (c/n) knew he consequences of war. She knew them too well. Deaths, disasters, all of it.

But, some things just had to be done. (C/n) would rather fight than let the German man she once knew rule over her beautiful home.

'You will leave these things behind,

You will.'

She was an ally now.

England, Canada, and France had declared war not long after (c/n) and decided to become her Ally, knowing her military force's strength and since they were all fighting for the same cause. Well, almost the same cause.

China and Russia/Soviet Union had also joined, Russia/SU in reason of Hitler's (the leader of the Nazi Party) attempt of invasion which caused a war, and China in reason of his declaration of war on Japan, whom was allied with Germany.

Then, when Japan had bombed Pearl Harbour, America- whom had felt quite betrayed by the attack from his so-called friend- joined the Allied Forces. (C/n) had to spend a few hours trying to comfort the sad American, and also try not to let her own tears fall from all the fallen soldiers in the war so far.

Together, the countries' forces were quite powerful, but they thought that more information about the Axis' future plans would benefit them greatly.

"If we know where they're about to attack," America was saying during one meeting, "then we'll totally have the upper hand, dude!"

"For once, I agree with the git," Britain had said.

"This is a great idea-aru," China had agreed. "But how will we get this intelligence?"

This had made all the countries think for a while, before Canada had spoken up.

"Maybe if we send someone in disguise," he said softly, voice barely audible, "they'll take him/her as a soldier and prepare him/her for battle, giving the person plans. Then, somehow, the person would communicate with us and give us the information."

(C/n) had stared at Canada with a shocked- but still encouraging- look, and repeated his sentence, louder.

All the countries had agreed on the idea, but now, they couldn't figure out who to send.

"I don't zhink zhat we should send a soldier," France was saying. "He might 'ave a weird accent or screw somezhing up."

This had led to a debate on who should go.

"I will be giving idea, da?" Russia had said, a creepy aura around him as he quieted everyone down. "What if we send (c/n)? I think that Germany likes her."

"He doesn't like me," scoffed (y/n). "He almost broke my damn nose with that punch."

"I agree with Russia," said Britain, completely ignoring her comment. "Germany used to blush all the time around you."

The rest of the countries thought well of the idea, all except (c/n).

"Guys!" she whined. "Even if Germany did like me, how would that help us? I can't just waltz in as myself, you know!"

"Non," said France. "Your appearance will 'ave to change. Mais, tu pourrais garder ta belle personalité (but, you could keep your pretty personality)."

Everyone but (c/n) nodded in agreement. She sighed and sank in her seat, out of good arguments.

"Fine," she said, a defeated tone to her voice. "England, work your magic."

'Regretless,

I'll go.

Regretless.'

'I can't believe those guys,' thought (y/n). 'Why, of all people, did it have to be me?'

She pushed those thoughts away, thinking that there was no going back now. (C/n) kicked a few lost pebbles as she walked slowly toward the German mansion in which she had tried to prevent Germany from causing a war. It was almost like last time.

This time, she looked completely different. England's magic had worked wonders. Her hair was extremely short to resemble a soldier's, her skin was slightly paler, and her eyes were a different colour. Heck, even her voice sounded different; more German. When she attempted to speak English now, she couldn't quite pronounce the letter 'w', much like the rest of Germans.

"Remember," England had said, "your name is now (fake name). You're a young girl from Germany who is in favour of the Nazi Party and you have been told to guard Germany's mansion."

"I know," she had replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a child."

(Y/n) knocked on the door and tried to imitate the Nazi look; a cruel, heartless expression, sternly focused eyes, and a posture that suggested order.

The same guard as last time opened the door, startling (y/n)- whom was spending much concentration on not looking like herself.

She told him that she was sent here on orders to guard the mansion with her life. The soldier gave her a suspicious look and asked who gave the order.

(Y/n) managed to intimidate him by narrowing her eyes and saying, "Must you really ask this?" in sharp German.

Going through the Nazi security verifications was surprisingly easy, for America- the computer whiz- had created (c/n) a fake ID with a birth certificate and everything. So, shortly after she entered the home, (y/n) was assigned to guard a hallway, the one that led to Germany's master bedroom.

For a few hours, (c/n) stood there, a feeling of empathy growing in her stomach toward the other soldiers as this had to be one of the most boring jobs ever. The girl was only allowed to walk orderly, to the end of the hall and back again. There and back again. It was beginning to make her crazy.

'Keep it together,' she thought in a particular moment when (y/n) was about to lose it. 'Remember why you're doing this.'

Around twelve minutes after her five-hour mark, something happened, something different then an occasional creak of the floor or a rare bird tweet.

Germany stepped out of his room, Nazi uniform clean and polished.

Right when (y/n) was passing by his door.

She swore under her breath and kept walking, with a slightly quicker pace, hoping that Germany would pass her over.

Unfortunately, (c/n) had no such luck.

"Sie! Herkommen!" boomed Germany, pointing at (c/n)- (fake name).

All the other guards had frozen in place and were staring at (c/n), telepathically telling her to do as told. Their worried expression made (y/n) wonder what the Nazis did to rebels.

She slowly, nervously, turned to face the Germany, who wore his usual faceless expression. The girl made her best effort to resemble the other soldiers with every step she took toward him.

(Y/n) held her breath as his eyes squinted and he looked her over. She almost forgot that she was in disguise and thought that he might recognize her. But he didn't.

Germany was actually wondering how a girl had gotten into his army. A fragile, surprisingly good-looking girl, at that.

"Wie ist Ihr Name, Soldat? (What's your name, soldier?)" he asked finally.

"(Full fake name), Sir," said (y/n) in a monotone, not meeting his eyes. She saluted him using the traditional German way.

"Warum wurden Sie hierher geschickt? (Why were you sent here?)" he questioned.

"Mit meinem Leben, Sir schützen Ihr Zuhause, (To guard your home with my life, sir)" answered (y/n).

Germany didn't answer. He was still gazing at (fake name) with interest. He was absolutely sure that he had seen someone like this before, that someone else gave him this odd feeling...

"Zurück an die Arbeit, Soldat, (Back to work, soldier,)" Germany said simply.

He left the hallway and went toward the highly-secured meeting room where his boss and generals were, awaiting his arrival to work out future battle strategies.

And from that day on, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so cold on the inside after all. For one of his soldiers had shattered the metal armour around his heart, just like (c/n) had so long ago.

(Y/n) realized this too, and a horrible feeling of guilt grew in her stomach, along with an amazing opportunity for her to gain intelligence.

The girl simply didn't know what to do. She couldn't just leave, she had hardly gotten any information! But at the same time, the girl couldn't imagine staying for any longer, to let Germany grow feelings for her... They were enemies, for goodness' sake!

So (c/n) stayed. She kept her identity as (fake name), and kept working at the country's dwelling.

Eventually, Germany fell for her. Desperately.

She didn't return his feelings. Hopefully.

Before she knew it, Germany was taking her out to dinner.

Although his boss didn't allow him to dine in public places, he let Germany eat in secure, Nazi-built areas. So that's where they went.

Germany was blushing, almost like before he became a Nazi. Almost like when he and (y/n) were friends. Not quite, though.

He still wore that horrid armband that made (c/n)'s nose wrinkle in disgust. His expressions were never quite the same. And he had servants.

Germany shouted at his soldiers to cook perfect food and to serve it to impress (fake name). He treated them quite rudely, in general.

(C/n) tried her best not to slip into her old personality, to keep a Nazi-like attitude, to not scold Germany for being so mean to the soldiers.

After an extremely awkward dinner (for (y/n), anyways), Germany dismissed his soldiers and took (fake name) to the edge of a lake- one of the rare ones with no current wars- for her to admire the view.

"Es ist sehr hübsch, nicht wahr? (It's very pretty, isn't it?)" said Germany, breaking the silence.

(Y/n) jumped, startled by his tone and kept her gaze fixed on the moon. It wasn't quite full, but it was close.

"Ja, denke ich, (Yeah, I guess,)" she answered. There was an uncomfortable silence in which (c/n) stared at the waves as they splashed against the beach beneath them.

He stepped closer to her and grabbed her hand softly.

"(Fake name)," he said, making her heart melt with guilt. He said that name like it was the most amazing thing in the world. Like something he treasured more than power. But the name wasn't real.

"J-ja, Deutschland?" she asked nervously.

"Ludwig," he corrected, his eyes soft, for once. "Rufen Sie mich an Ludwig. (Call me Ludwig)."

Her heart fell. She knew what was about to happen. And she also knew how his was going to end.

(Y/n) couldn't bear to look at Ludwig anymore. She locked her eyes onto her feet.

Germany lifted her head gently with one finger so their eyes met. There wasn't any Nazi emotions in his face now; it was almost as if the old Ludwig was back...

"Ich... Ich-" Germany didn't bother to finish his sentence.

He kissed the so-called (fake name) gently, then passionately. Ludwig wrapped his arms around her figure tightly, unbeknownst to who he was really kissing.

The girl's head was spinning; she couldn't focus. A part of her mind was shouting at her to pull away, to run away, to never come back again... The other one was struggling to kiss back.

(Y/n) sighed internally, kissed back for a few seconds- she couldn't help herself-, then pulled away with the most hypocrite, most forced smile she had ever made.

"Ich liebe dich, (I love you,)" said Germany. "Für immer und ewig. (Forever and ever.)"

(C/n) bit her lip nervously, not knowing what to do next. She knew there was no way she could utter those words the same way Ludwig had. He looked at her with concern.

She kissed him again, not knowing what else to do. He willingly kissed back, smiling in content.

(Y/n) now completely regretted accepting this mission; she knew that if Ludwig's love for (fake name) was real, then this would only end in one- maybe even two broken hearts.

For in those long minutes in which the two embraced each other, (y/n) identified why she had a strong urge to kiss back.

She had fallen in love with Ludwig. Of course.

Germany now let (fake name) sleep with him (not in that way).

This gave the girl a major advantage; she could often hear Germany's boss talking to himself in the other room and listen to his strategies.

In fact, she had gotten so much Intel lately that she planned on contacting the Allied Forces that night.

So, she squirmed out of Germany's muscled arms and, very slowly, took a few steps toward the bedroom door. Her body froze when she heard Ludwig shift slightly in his sleep.

Thankfully, he was just switching sides and adjusting his position. She let out a silent sigh of relief and clutched a cell phone she had made secretly tightly.

In the satin robe that Ludwig had ordered custom-made by fine tailors, (y/n) made her way to the outside of the home, passing by a few guards. When one of them gave her a questioning look, she said that she needed to go to take a walk.

With the permission of the doubtful doorman, the girl stepped outside in a winter coat. A cold breeze smacked her face and a shiver ran down her spine.

(C/n) looked around to find the spot with the least witnesses and began walking toward it. It was a very small gap between two German households around two blocks away from Germany's home. There, she made herself as invisible as possible and dialled England's number.

After a few rings, someone picked up. "Hello?" asked England's voice.

"England!" (c/n) whispered as loud as she could. "I have information. Come and get me!"

"(C/n)?" England asked, lowering his voice as well. "Is that you?"

"Yes!" she said. "Now, come and get me! I'll meet you at the border! Use my phone to track me! We don't have much time! They'll start looking for me soon!"

"Okay," said England. (C/n) head him utter a few orders. "We'll be there as soon as possible."

The phone hung up and (y/n) took one last glance in the direction of the German mansion.

Then, she turned on her heel and left.

'Tears on my pillowcase, oh, let them go,

I never said another word, to let you know.'

While (c/n) neared the border where England would take her, Germany finally woke up.

His eyes fluttered open and he expected to see his lovely (fake name) asleep, smiling serenely in his arms. But she wasn't there.

At first he thought that she might've just gone to the bathroom. But after ten, fifteen minutes, he was sure that it couldn't be the case.

So, anxiously, he sprang to his feet and hastily clothed himself, not even bothering to slick back his hair. Then he yelled at the nearest guard and asked him if he had seen (fake name).

"J-Ja," the guard said, trembling under Germany's fierce gaze, "sie sagte, dass sie für einen Spaziergang gehen. (she said that she was going for a walk.)"

Germany's heart dropped and he told the guard to get his weapon, thinking that (fake name) may have been taken by surprise and stolen.

After only a few seconds, Ludwig followed the same path as (y/n) did, tracking her with her cell like Britain.

With a few soldiers, he finally arrived at the border where (y/n) stood, where a helicopter lowered, dangerously close to her.

"(Fake name)!" cried Germany, running in her direction. She rotated to face him and looked scared.

The helicopter touched the ground and a door opened slightly.

"Get in!" cried Britain's voice as Germany's soldiers instinctively fired bullets. (Fake name) screamed, startled, and Germany told his soldiers to stop.

England yelled an incantation and (fake name) began to change, right before Germany's eyes.

Her hair returned to a colour of (h/c). Her eyes were no longer (fake eye colour), they were (e/c). Her skin tone changed slightly. Her figure looked much stronger.

Ludwig felt his heart shatter to pieces as (fake name) was revealed as (c/n) in disguise.

His arms dropped by his sides. He dropped his weapon and stood still, shocked.

(C/n) met his eyes for half a second and knew that this was the moment that she feared, the moment when what she'd done to Germany showed for the first time.

Germany's expression couldn't be described; it was an odd mixture of betrayal, heartbreak, grief, anger, sadness, and recklessness.

It didn't change when (y/n) got into the helicopter and flew into the night sky. It didn't change when his soldiers looked at him, awaiting orders.

It changed shortly after that, though.

The grief, anger, and betrayal took over. He yelled at his soldiers to follow him home so loudly that a few birds almost fell out of the sky in fright.

And as Germany walked, broken, to his dwelling where he would surely create plans to attack every single ally, he told himself that all these sad feelings would take no time to disappear.

Ludwig thought that he would quickly forget (c/n) and everything they had done together. He thought that he would never care about her again.

He thought that he'd go regretless.

But he was wrong. He did love (c/n).

~End of part 1~


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